


aliens (almost) made them do it

by izazov



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feels, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26180302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izazov/pseuds/izazov
Summary: Anakin thought it was going to be just another boring mission. He was wrong.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 853





	aliens (almost) made them do it

**Author's Note:**

> So, in this happier AU, Palpatine had slipped on a space-banana peel and broke his neck shortly after the occupation of Naboo. Anakin and Padmé had met again, in more sedate circumstances, but sparks didn't fly. The part with Anakin dreaming of his mother's death went more or less the same, except Anakin had gotten there earlier, and managed to save Shmi. 
> 
> My apologies for the silly title, but this is a silly fic so I didn't bother to change it.

Anakin was bored. 

  
  


Not an unusual occurrence during diplomatic missions. And considering that Anakin's Master had been given the moniker 'The Negotiator' - Obi-Wan _hated_ it, so, naturally, Anakin loved to call him that, to watch that little grimace Obi-Wan would try and fail to mask with a smile - they were sent on a lot of those.

  
  


Anakin was lucky - or unlucky, depending on one's point of view - that one out of three of their supposedly diplomatic missions usually ended up with people trying to shoot them, leading to what Anakin liked to call aggressive negotiations. Were it not for that, Anakin would have died long ago from sheer boredom.

  
  


Ignoring the majority of the actual talks also helped. 

  
  


Usually, after he'd deemed it was safe to stop listening, Anakin would let his thoughts drift to the latest piece of machinery he had been tinkering with back at the Temple. Sometimes he would go over his lightsaber form in his mind, recalling the sparring matches with Obi-Wan and analyzing his mistakes so he wouldn't repeat them the next time. So he would win more often. Less for the victory itself, and more for the soft, slightly breathless way Obi-Wan would say _good job, Anakin_.

  
  


But, lately, he'd found his attention drifting toward Obi-Wan. Constantly. 

  
  


When it had first started, Anakin's reaction had been predictable: embarrassment. Obi-Wan had been the one who'd had to drag him out of the fresher every day for an entire month after Anakin had realized that there was no shortage of water in the Temple. Obi-Wan had been the one who had held him in the most awkward embrace of his life after Anakin had been forced to admit how he couldn't read aurebesh.

  
  


It hadn't lasted long. 

  
  


Maybe it would have, if Obi-Wan had been older and more experienced when he'd taken Anakin in. As it were, Obi-Wan and Anakin had stumbled blindly through the early years of Anakin's apprenticeship: Obi-Wan new to Knighthood and reeling from Qui-Gon's death, and Anakin new to everything and still clinging to his earlier life. It had blurred the lines between them from the start. 

  
  


Now, if asked, Anakin would be hard pressed to say what exactly Obi-Wan was to him. Anakin wouldn't say he regarded him as a father figure or an elder sibling. But Obi-Wan wasn't just his teacher and an authority figure. Anakin supposed the word 'friend' came closest to describe how he saw Obi-Wan. But even that seemed insufficient to Anakin, not nearly strong enough to encompass just how much Obi-Wan meant to him. 

  
  


Obi-Wan was… _Obi-Wan_. And as long as he remained an intricate part of Anakin's life, that was enough for Anakin.

  
  


After Anakin had gotten over his embarrassment, he'd become curious. Which might sound strange, considering they have been literally living together for the last twelve years. But there was a difference between… well, _studying_ Obi-Wan when his attention was engaged elsewhere and when he had it set firmly on Anakin.

  
  


Obi-Wan was… tricky to figure out, sometimes. His shields were irritatingly strong, he was master at control and he could talk in circles around you for hours. Which made every soft smile, every word of praise, and every warm glimmer in Obi-Wan's eyes all the more precious to Anakin. Anakin hoarded them jealously, keeping them close to his heart. 

  
  


So, in a way, Anakin's recent fixation with Obi-Wan was just another educational experience.

  
  


And, so far, it has been going rather well.

  
  


Anakin had learned a lot about the various ways Obi-Wan would smile and gesture, even arch an eyebrow.

  
  


He'd also learned much about varying shades of Obi-Wan's eyes, and how his hair color could range from copper to gold depending on the lightning.

  
  


He'd learned that Obi-Wan didn't like alcohol, but could drink surprising amounts and stay in control of his faculties. And cheat at sabacc at the same time.

  
  


He'd also learned - in those rare moments he'd been paying attention to the actual talks - that Obi-Wan was as frustrated as Anakin with how little Jedi could do sometimes to change things for the better, but was infinitely better at letting it go.

  
  


Unfortunately, he had also learned that Obi-Wan liked to flirt. A lot. Too much, in Anakin's humble opinion. With senators, royalty, soldiers, members of local governments; the list went on and on. 

  
  


And it didn't happen only on diplomatic missions. Oooh no. Anakin had been an unfortunate witness to Obi-Wan flirting with an assassin sent to kill him. _While_ she was trying to kill him. After she had been apprehended, Anakin hadn't been able to decide with whom he was angrier: the assassin or Obi-Wan.

  
  


Then there were other Jedi, of course. Anakin had recently come to a disconcerting conclusion that, excluding Yoda, _Anakin_ was the only other Jedi over the age of twenty Obi-Wan hadn't flirted with.

  
  


Anakin didn't like to think about that fact. Or draw conclusions concerning said fact. Or have strong emotional responses to it.

  
  


It didn't stop him from doing all three. Very often.

  
  


"-highly inappropriate!"

  
  


Obi-Wan raising his voice during diplomatic talks was so out of character, it had brought Anakin's attention to the present with more urgency than a blaster bolt would have done.

  
  


Anakin tensed, subtly shifting into a battle stance, only to relax in the next moment, casting a curious glance down at Obi-Wan who - unlike Anakin, who hadn't been offered a seat, which seemed very rude - was sitting on a round, plush cushion facing their host.

  
  


Anakin couldn't quite recall their host's name - just that it had too many vowels - but he knew he was a representative on the Council of Light, the highest governing body on this planet. He was sitting on a cushion similar to Obi-Wan's, only his was placed on slightly raised dais; probably indicating his position. 

  
  


Their host raised one delicate hand in a placating gesture. "Please, Jedi, I meant no offense. We have issued our invitation in good faith."

  
  


"Under false pretense and hiding your true purpose," Obi-Wan said, his voice a hairsbreadth from sounding outright hostile. 

  
  


Anakin blinked, his eyebrows climbing up. He has never - _never_ \- heard Obi-Wan sound like that. Especially on a peaceful mission.

  
  


But, then again, this mission was far from a standard diplomatic mission. And not in their usual chaotic way, which usually led to them barely escaping the planet in a stolen ship.

  
  


No. This mission was different in a way that their hosts wanted Anakin to engage in a sexual intercourse as a part of an ancient Force ritual meant to bless the populace of the planet.

  
  


Well. _That_ was more or less exactly what their host had said after exchanging the initial pleasantries.

  
  


Talks about Koa joining the Republic had, naturally, gone south from that moment on.

  
  


Anakin's initial reaction - shock, then outrage, then curiosity, then resolve - had more or less settled into boredom an hour ago, when it had become obvious that their hosts - despite the underhanded way they have gotten them to come to Koa - have no intention of pressing the issue. For whatever reason.

  
  


That… was a relief. It meant Anakin wouldn't have to do something drastic and probably violent, thus ruining Obi-Wan's chances of salvaging the negotiations.

  
  


Although, it seemed that Obi-Wan might do that himself, more interested in making it completely and unequivocally clear to their host that Anakin would not, under any circumstances, take part in their ritual, than trying to shift the conversation to the actual reason they have come to Koa.

  
  


Actually, it was somewhat funny how Obi-Wan was more bothered by the Koan's request than Anakin himself. 

  
  


And getting closer to being outright angry with each moment. 

  
  


Anakin briefly entertained the idea of reaching out to Obi-Wan in the Force, but there was something about the tense line of his shoulders and the very careful way he took each breath, then released it, that made Anakin reconsider that idea.

  
  


Instead, he straightened, swallowing an annoyed noise at the realization that Obi-Wan and the Koan have been discussing the possibility of Anakin getting fucked as a part of an alien ritual for almost two hours, and never once during that time had either of the two thought to ask _Anakin_ for his opinion.

  
  


Which was extremely inconsiderate because it was Anakin's ass - quite literally - in question here. Sure, Anakin had no intention whatsoever of going through with the ritual, but it would have been kriffing nice if someone _had asked_ him.

  
  


The Koan sighed, then put his hand on his chest. "I admit that we have been less than honest with you but we have not lied about Koa joining the Republic," he said in a calm, melodic voice that sounded truthful. Anakin frowned, then stretched his senses through the Force, and yes. The Koan was telling the truth. "The Light has informed us that the time has come."

  
  


The Light being the Force in this case. Anakin knew - from the report Obi-Wan had made him read on the trip to Koa - that the Koans were a society deeply devoted to the Force, but they were not Force sensitive. Not in the traditional sense. They experienced visions, lived in accordance to those visions, but had no way of manipulating the Force.

  
  


Personally, Anakin wouldn't have traded places with them under any circumstances. Having no control whatsoever over the Force, but having to live according to its whims sounded… familiar.

  
  


And not in the good way. 

  
  


Obi-Wan was silent one long moment. Almost too long. Anakin shifted on his feet, trying but failing to get a read on Obi-Wan in the Force. He was shielding so tightly Anakin would've had better luck in getting a response from a rock.

  
  


"The Republic will greet you with open arms should you decide to take that step," Obi-Wan said, voice even. The Koan blinked, his face now showing concern for the first time since the beginning of the talks. "But I can speak for the Republic no longer. Not in clear conscience."

  
  


Anakin was gaping. He knew that he was gaping but he couldn't summon enough presence of mind to close his mouth.

  
  


_What in the Sith Hells was Obi-Wan doing?_

  
  


"But surely-" the Koan started, his pale eyes wide with alarm. 

  
  


Obi-Wan stopped him by raising to his feet in one graceful move.

  
  


"I am certain Chancellor Organa will arrange for someone suitable to take our place if you truly intend to continue the negotiations," Obi-Wan said, voice flat. Anakin gaped harder. "As for your suggestion regarding my apprentice," Obi-Wan added, voice sharp and durasteel hard. "There is nothing you can offer or say that will result in Anakin engaging in sexual relations with one of your own."

  
  


A strangled sound left Anakin's throat, heat gathering low in his stomach as he stared at Obi-Wan. Fortunately, neither Obi-Wan, nor the Koan paid any attention to Anakin. 

  
  


"Your Excellency," Obi-Wan said. He inclined his head in lieu of a bow, then turned to leave.

  
  


"Jedi, just one moment please," the Koan said, looking almost relieved.

  
  


Obi-Wan stopped, then, with obvious reluctance, nodded slowly.

  
  


The Koan smiled as he, too, rose to his feet. "It seems that there has been a misunderstanding regarding the ritual."

  
  


Obi-Wan frowned. "Misunderstanding?"

  
  


"Yes," the Koan said, glancing briefly at Anakin for the first time since they have exchanged greetings. "We would never have dared to insist that one of us participates in the ritual."

  
  


Obi-Wan blinked, clearly taken aback. Anakin's heart, for whatever reason, started beating wildly, his throat going as dry as Tatooine.

  
  


"Then... who did you have in mind?" Obi-Wan asked in a slow, careful voice. "To assist Anakin."

  
  


The Koan smiled. "Why, _you_ , of course."

* * *

Anakin was leaning against a large glass door leading to a round terrace, watching Obi-Wan pace. Something he had been doing ever since they had returned to their quarters. There was even a pattern to it: four steps to the right, stop, turn, four steps to the left. 

  
  


Again and again and again.

  
  


Watching Obi-Wan agitated and doing nothing to hide it, was a surreal experience. 

  
  


Not as surreal as the words still echoing inside Anakin's head, though.

  
  


_Why, you, of course._

  
  


Anakin had no idea what, exactly, he should think about the idea of Obi-Wan and him. Together. In that way. Naked skin sliding against naked skin. Hands touching, holding, pulling. Mouths kissing, suck-

  
  


Well. Maybe Anakin should think less - and not as vividly - about it. It wasn't like Obi-Wan seemed less adamant about protecting Anakin's virtue from himself, then he had been when he'd thought a random Koan would… _assist_ Anakin. 

  
  


If anything, he seemed even more opposed to the idea of the ritual now. Vehemently so. 

  
  


But Anakin couldn't stop his thoughts from circling back to it. To wondering how it would have been like to have Obi-Wan's hands on his naked skin, and feel Obi-Wan's beard as he kissed his way down Anakin's stomach. 

  
  


Wondering about having Obi-Wan inside himself.

  
  


Anakin had to bite down on his lower lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out. He checked his shields, found them… well, probably the tightest they have ever been, then cast a guilty look at Obi-Wan. 

  
  


Obi-Wan was still pacing, too immersed in his own thoughts to have caught any stray thought or emotion that might have slipped past Anakin's shields.

  
  


Anakin didn't know from where all these thoughts were coming from, insistent and enticing and wholly inappropriate. He's never thought of Obi-Wan like that. _Never_. 

  
  


Well. There had been that one time, when Anakin was seventeen, and he'd woken from a dream, hard and aching, the line between dream and reality still blurred. It hadn't seemed wrong, then, to reach down and wrap his hand around himself, to bring himself to completion to the phantom touch of a bearded mouth against his ear, whispering praise in the familiar Coruscanti accent.

  
  


Anakin had locked that memory deep within his mind, and there it had stayed all these years. But now, he stood helpless against the tide of thoughts and emotions, pouring from that hidden place, evoked by four kriffing unassuming words.

  
  


"Now I know why you dislike it when I pace," Anakin said, straightening. He was aware how forced the lightness of his voice was. But he needed a distraction from the thoughts roiling in his head. Or risk doing something incredibly stupid. " _I_ am starting to get dizzy just by watching you."

  
  


Obi-Wan stopped pacing, blinking at Anakin. "Oh," he said, dragging his fingers through his hair, making it messy. Anakin had to use much of his depleting willpower not to let his imagination run wild with it. "I hadn't noticed."

  
  


Anakin cleared his throat. "So. What are your plans?" Anakin said, as if this was just another mission gone wrong. As if there wasn't a gundark in the room, neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin seemed willing to acknowledge.

  
  


Obi-Wan glanced at him, then looked away, shrugging faintly. "Report the… failure to the Council, I suppose," Obi-Wan said, voice caught between resigned and wry. "When our host finally decides to supply us with a holoprojector, that is."

  
  


Unthinkingly, Anakin almost offered his comlink; his _other_ comlink. The one he'd modified himself, secretly, boosting its range so its signal could reach Tatooine from any corner of the known galaxy. 

  
  


The one both he and Obi-Wan were pretending did not exist. 

  
  


_Plausible deniability, my young Padawan,_ Obi-Wan had said to him, years ago, when he'd caught Anakin sneaking back into their rooms after a night spent in the Lower Levels. _Hinges on the lack of evidence._

  
  


Anakin still wasn't entirely certain how he felt about Obi-Wan's willingness to ignore Anakin's blatant disregard of the Code. He was grateful, yes, but, at times, he couldn't help but feel frustrated: he didn't want Obi-Wan's support to hinge on the lack of evidence, he wanted it whole and without reserve.

  
  


He wanted... too much.

  
  


Anakin swallowed. Searching for a distraction, he cast a dubious look at their surroundings. Marble, wood, ornamental glass, heavy curtains. In some ways it reminded him of Naboo. But even the Royal Palace in Theed had been functional instead of merely pretentious. This place didn't even have hydraulic doors with electronic locks. 

  
  


"The report stated the Koans are highly developed, but I haven't even seen a cleaning droid in this place," Anakin said.

  
  


Obi-Wan gave him an amused look. "Oh, I am certain there are parts of this place that would satisfy even your high technological standards. But those places are not for the outsiders."

  
  


Anakin frowned and crossed his arms. "Wonderful. So they are paranoid, too, not just high and mighty. Maybe the Republic is better off without them."

  
  


Obi-Wan gave him an inscrutable look. It was gone in a moment, replaced by weariness. "They are a traditionalist society, in large part closed off to outside influence," Obi-Wan said, rubbing a hand across his face. Which, to Anakin, spoke plenty. Obi-Wan was concerned, and without ideas how to change the odds in their favor. And not in the least happy with it. "Despite that, they are involved in trade agreements with most of the planets in the Mid Rim, and a few from the Core. There had been rumors that even the Hutts had tried to… legalize some of their dealings by associating themselves with the Koans."

  
  


"So the Republic won't be better off without them," Anakin said, lamely.

  
  


The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth curved faintly. "I am not looking forward to giving a report to Chancellor Organa. Perhaps even less than the Council."

  
  


Anakin watched as Obi-Wan went over to one of the desk chairs and sat down, bowing his head. 

  
  


Something stirred in Anakin's chest, hot and aching; all his earlier thoughts of Obi-Wan and himself crashing over him like a relentless tide.

  
  


Anakin _wanted_ , and with such intensity he could almost taste the salt of Obi-Wan's skin on his tongue.

  
  


Anakin made two unconscious steps forward, deaf and blind to everything but the rush of blood in his ears and the sight of Obi-Wan's bowed head. 

  
  


"Maybe you don't have to," Anakin blurted out, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could think better of it.

  
  


Obi-Wan raised his head slowly, a deep crease forming on his brow. "I don't quite understand, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "What don't I have to do?"

  
  


Anakin took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on Obi-Wan's face. This was the point of no return. If he were to speak now, there would be no going back, after.

  
  


But, maybe, going back was already too late. Has been since the moment Anakin had acknowledged the want that was roiling inside him: unyielding as a sandstorm, and equally as devastating.

  
  


"Give your report," Anakin said in a ragged voice, his heart hammering against his breastbone. "There's a way to give the Koans what they want."

  
  


Obi-Wan blinked. "What?"

  
  


Anakin made another step forward, as if drawn by magnetic force. " _We_ could give them what they want."

  
  


There was a tumor in the Force, a burst of unchecked emotions: shock, confusion, denial, and, underneath it all, _want_. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, smothered under durasteel willpower.

  
  


But not fast enough. Anakin now knew it was there, buried deep inside Obi-Wan, and the truth of it all but stole the breath from Anakin's lungs.

  
  


"Your sense of humor needs improvement, Padawan," Obi-Wan said, his voice clipped.

  
  


"I'm not joking," Anakin said, voice steady despite the chaos that were his thoughts and emotions. "I think we should go ahead with the ritual."

  
  


Obi-Wan went deathly still for one long moment. Were it not for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, he could have easily been mistaken for a sculpture. 

  
  


Unable to stop himself, Anakin closed the distance between them, his fingers fitting themselves against the side of Obi-Wan's face.

  
  


"Obi-Wan," Anakin whispered, his voice low and heated, his thumb brushing gently across Obi-Wan's lower lip. 

  
  


For the shortest moment, no more than the space between heartbeats, nothing existed in the entire galaxy: just Obi-Wan and Anakin, and the warmth of Obi-Wan's breath on Anakin's skin.

  
  


For that one moment, everything was _right_.

  
  


And then, just like that, it was over. 

  
  


Obi-Wan stood up abruptly, pulling away, and away, until he was out of reach, staring at Anakin with narrowed eyes.

  
  


"You are dangerously out of line, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, voice sharp. But Obi-Wan, for all his control, couldn't hide a faint waver to his voice.

  
  


Anakin slowly lowered his outstretched hand, the fire inside his blood transmuting into anger. Anger strong enough to cloud his judgment, but not strong enough to soothe the sting of rejection. Rejection that wouldn't have hurt as much if Anakin couldn't recall Obi-Wan's first, unshielded response: desire.

  
  


"Why? It's not like we haven't done worse for the Republic and your precious Council. Or do you think negotiating with Jabba the Hutt is somehow more noble than fucking me?"

  
  


"Anakin, that is quite enough," Obi-Wan snapped, eyes flashing. "I will not fuck you for the good of the Republic."

  
  


Anakin's lips lifted into a sneer as he made a step forward, hands tightly clenched. "But you _would_ fuck me, isn't that right, Obi-Wan?"

  
  


Obi-Wan flinched as if hit, his eyes widening with guilt. And Anakin knew - too late - that he'd made a mistake.

  
  


Silence that ensued after Anakin's outburst felt heavy and stifling, feeding the panic that was clawing at Anakin's mind at the realization that he might have destroyed something precious and fragile before it had had a chance to grow.

  
  


The sound of knocking that cut through the silence seemed louder than thunder. 

  
  


Obi-Wan shut his eyes for an instant. When he opened them, they were void of guilt, his face smoothing into a mild expression.

  
  


"Come in," Obi-Wan called, sparing Anakin a brief, warning glance.

  
  


Anakin watched, helplessly, as the door opened, revealing a man dressed in green robes, followed by a service droid, carrying a portable holoprojector. 

  
  


"My apologies for the tardiness, Master Jedi," the Koan said, bowing deeply. 

  
  


Obi-Wan smiled pleasantly, moving aside to let the droid pass by him. "No apologies needed, my friend. I am certain you have done your best."

  
  


The Koan signaled the droid to join him, after it had deposited the holoprojector on a large, oval table in the center of the room.

  
  


"Is there anything else you require?" 

  
  


"That will be all for now," Obi-Wan said, nodding his head once in dismissal.

  
  


The Koan bowed deeply. He was gone in the next moment, followed by the service droid, the door shutting after them with an ominous click.

  
  


"Obi-Wan, I," Anakin began, unsure of what he wanted to say, but sure he couldn't take the ensuing silence.

  
  


Obi-Wan stopped him with a raised hand and a level look that betrayed nothing. 

  
  


"I have an important call I need to make," Obi-Wan said, striding over to the holoprojector and glancing at Anakin in passing. "You should take that time to clear your head and reflect on your actions."

  
  


And, just like that, bitter anger surged inside Anakin's chest. 

  
  


"Fine, I'll go," Anakin spat, the words leaving a pungent taste in the back of his throat. "But I'm not the only one who needs to reflect on what has happened here."

  
  


Turning on his heel, Anakin strode over to the door, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

  
  


"This is not going to disappear," Anakin said without turning around. "No matter how hard you try to repress it."

  
  


There was a faint flutter in the Force in response to Anakin's words, but Anakin didn't bother trying to decipher its meaning. Instead, he opened the door and walked out, viciously pleased with the sound of the door slamming shut behind him.

* * *

The gardens surrounding the main building were well kept and neatly organized. 

  
  


After having left their room, Anakin had been wandering through the gardens, without paying much attention to his surroundings; lost in the chaos of his thoughts and emotions.

  
  


Despite his earlier comment about their hosts' paranoia, Anakin had only encountered a single member of the staff while roaming the gardens. He, too, had been dressed in the green robes identical to those of the Koan who had delivered the holoprojector. Other than offering his services, he'd paid no attention to Anakin after Anakin had declined his offer.

  
  


Anakin had lost track of time after about half an hour of wandering through the gardens. Tranquility of his surroundings had calmed Anakin's anger somewhat, reducing it to a low simmer.

  
  


His ache was a different matter entirely. It throbbed dully in the same rhythm as his heartbeat, reaching down to his very core, and focusing entirely on Obi-Wan; too strong and too deep to be just a momentary madness.

  
  


And if it wasn't momentary madness, what was it? And just what should Anakin _do_ about it?

  
  


Anakin stopped his aimless wandering after having discovered a stone bench, surrounded on three sides by bushes of orange flowers Anakin didn't recognize.

  
  


With a sigh, Anakin flopped down onto the bench. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he pulled his modified comlink out of his belt compartment, entering the frequency he knew by heart.

  
  


It took a moment before a familiar voice responded with, "Ani? I didn't expect to hear from you today."

  
  


Anakin smiled, once again mourning the fact he couldn't see her, uttering a hoarse, "Hi, Mom."

  
  


There was a slight pause before Shmi's voice sounded from the comm, weighted with concern. "Is everything all right, Ani? You sound troubled."

  
  


Anakin pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to tell his mother everything, to relieve at least some of the pressure inside his chest. At the same time, he didn't know _what_ to say.

  
  


In the end, he settled for, "It's… Obi-Wan."

  
  


"Has something happened to him?" Shmi asked, concerned.

  
  


Beside that one, deeply uncomfortable time after Anakin had gone rogue and saved Shmi from the Tuskens, and Obi-Wan had come to Tatooine to take him back to Coruscant, Obi-Wan and Shmi had never met. Still. Anakin knew the worry in his mother's voice was genuine. If for no other reason than because she knew how much it would have hurt Anakin if something were to happen to Obi-Wan.

  
  


"No, he is fine," Anakin said, snapping his eyes open as frustration seeped into his voice despite himself. "He's just being Obi-Wan."

  
  


A slight pause. Then, "Are you angry at him?" Shmi asked in a soft voice.

  
  


Anakin let out a short huff of breath. "Yes," he said, his voice balancing on the edge between relief and irritation. "No. I- I don't know."

  
  


"This isn't about me, is it, Ani?" Shmi asked, carefully.

  
  


"What? _No_ ," Anakin hurried to reassure her. "It's- It's something else."

  
  


"I'm glad to hear it," Shmi said. "I don't want to cause trouble for you."

  
  


"You're not, Mom," Anakin said, voice fierce. "You never could."

  
  


"I already have," Shmi said, a trace of sorrow lacing her words. "When you came to rescue me."

  
  


"I don't regret it," Anakin said. "I wouldn't have regretted it even if they had expelled me from the Order."

  
  


"Being a Jedi has been your dream, Ani," Shmi said, tone mild. "Ever since you were a boy."

  
  


Anakin's mouth curved into a bitter smile, his free hand tightening into a loose fist. Being a Jedi has been Anakin's childhood dream, and it still remained what Anakin wanted to be. But the reality of what being Jedi actually entailed - rules, restrictions and sacrifice - has taken some of the shine off of Anakin's boyhood fantasies.

  
  


Or, perhaps, Anakin has never meant to be a Jedi. Not a proper Jedi, not like Obi-Wan who could keep his emotions leashed so tightly, it hardly mattered they existed.

  
  


Anakin shook his head, trying to expel those thoughts, to silence that venomous voice inside his head that had never missed an opportunity to feed Anakin's fears and insecurities.

  
  


Obi-Wan might never give as much of himself as Anakin wanted him to. But Anakin couldn't disregard just how much Obi-Wan had already given him.

  
  


It was just that Anakin always wanted more. More of Obi-Wan's time, more of his attention, more of his affection. Just… more.

  
  


"Not at the cost of your life," Anakin said, a sort of finality to his words that left no room for argument. Or doubt. "No matter what the Code preaches."

  
  


"Well, I'm glad it hasn't come to it," Shmi said. "Because I know you're a good Jedi, Anakin. You've always been good at everything you'd set your mind to."

  
  


Anakin smiled at the strength of conviction in his mother's voice. "I'm technically only a Padawan," Anakin said, glancing down at the braid that went well past his shoulder. He took it between two fingers and rubbed it gently as he pondered his next words. "But I think that will change soon."

  
  


"What do you mean?"

  
  


Anakin hesitated, his mouth going dry. Ever since Obi-Wan had started hinting it four months ago, it was all Anakin could think about. Bit he's never said it out loud. Not even once. 

  
  


"I think Obi-Wan will recommend me for the Trials," Anakin said, softly, letting go of his braid. Now that he had finally said the words he'd only dared to think, it felt like they had suddenly become real and imminent. And Anakin could not tell whether the rapid spike in his pulse meant excitement or dread. Or both. "I will be a Jedi soon."

  
  


"Oh, Ani, that's wonderful," Shmi said, the joy in her voice an almost palpable thing even across the galaxy. "I am so happy for you."

  
  


Anakin swallowed, bowing his head. "Yeah, so am I."

  
  


There was a notable pause before Shmi's quiet voice drifted from the comm. "You don't sound as happy as I thought you would be. Are you concerned about passing your Trials?"

  
  


Anakin scoffed. "No. I'm ready, I know that. If it weren't-" Anakin cut himself off before he could finish the sentence. 

  
  


Anakin and Obi-Wan haven't actually talked about it - something, Anakin was beginning to realize, that happened far too often - but Anakin was certain of it all the same: if it hadn't been for his transgression on Tatooine two years ago, Obi-Wan would have already recommend him for the Trials. But that wasn't a burden his mother needed to carry. She already felt bad enough about it. 

  
  


"It doesn't really matter now," Anakin finished, lamely. "Maybe next time I call you, I'll be a Knight."

  
  


There was another lengthy pause before Shmi spoke up again. It made Anakin squirm in his seat. It was something his mother had in common with Obi-Wan, probably because Anakin cared about both of them above everyone else. 

  
  


"Anakin, you know you can tell me anything," Shmi said gently. "I may not know much about Jedi, but I've lived long enough to know that, sometimes, having someone to talk to openly and without restraint, can be of great help."

  
  


Anakin felt his chest constrict painfully, but when he opened his mouth, the words spilled out of him on a rush of breath. Almost as if Anakin had been waiting for this very moment.

  
  


"Once I become Knight, everything will change," Anakin said, miserable. "I don't want things to change. I am happy with the way things are now."

  
  


"When you first left Tatooine, you had the same fears," Shmi reminded him. "Do you remember what I've told you then?"

  
  


Anakin exhaled loudly. "That I cannot stop change."

  
  


"And everything had worked out fine. You haven't allowed your fear to stop you when you were a boy," Shmi reassured him, voice gentle but no less firm because of it. "And look at you now, a young man, about to become a Jedi."

  
  


Anakin stood up abruptly, unable to bear the stillness any longer. He let out a frustrated noise and started to pace. "I had Obi-Wan then. When I become-" Anakin broke off, his throat closing at the realization of the nameless fear that has been gnawing at him ever since Obi-Wan had first started hinting at recommending Anakin for the Trials.

  
  


"Ah," Shmi said slowly. "This concerns Obi-Wan."

  
  


Anakin halted in his tracks momentarily, biting on his lower lip, then resumed his nervous pacing, the words spilling out of him despite his best efforts.

  
  


"It's- Nothing will be the same, Mom," Anakin said, helpless frustration seeping into his voice. "I will have to move into new quarters, and Force knows when we'll be assigned together on the same mission." Anakin paused, swallowing the bitter taste that had gathered at the back of his throat. "Maybe Obi-Wan will get a new Padawan, and then who knows when I'll see him again."

  
  


A Padawan more like himself, and not an ex-slave who came to the Jedi too old and too scared.

  
  


"Anakin, what is it that you want?" 

  
  


Anakin stopped pacing, caught by surprise by the question. Though, perhaps, he shouldn't have been. Despite the distance between them, bridged only by an occasional call, his mother remained the one person who knew him best.

  
  


But what of his answer? What did Anakin truly want?

  
  


"I want to be Obi-Wan's equal," Anakin said slowly, voice barely over a whisper. "But I don't want to move out of my room and I want to keep going on missions with Obi-Wan. Even boring, diplomatic ones. We're a good team, and I see no reason whatsoever to separate us. I just want-"

  
  


_Obi-Wan._

  
  


The realization didn't come with an explosion in the Force. It didn't steal Anakin's breath, nor did it buckle his knees. 

  
  


But between one breath and the other, Anakin simply... knew. Knew why he couldn't keep his eyes off Obi-Wan lately. Why he wanted to taste every inch of Obi-Wan's body. Why the thought of leaving their quarters made him surly, and the possibility of spending months without seeing Obi-Wan made him almost physically sick.

  
  


He loved Obi-Wan. Was in love with him. And the only reason he'd been so stupidly blind to what was in his heart, was the simple fact he's loved Obi-Wan since he was a small boy, and loving Obi-Wan felt as natural as breathing.

  
  


"Mom," Anakin said, urgency giving his voice an almost sharp note, his heartbeat picking up speed. "I have to go now. There's something I need to do. Immediately."

  
  


"That is all right, Ani," Shmi said. "Be well, my son."

  
  


Anakin swallowed around the lump in his throat, his entire being nearly vibrating with urgency.

  
  


"Bye, Mom. Love you," Anakin said, breathless.

  
  


Then, after ending the call, Anakin turned and started running in the direction of the house.

* * *

  
  
When Anakin returned to their rooms, he found Obi-Wan sitting at the table, looking… weary.

  
  


That in itself wasn't an unusual occurrence. Anakin had long since accepted - however grudgingly - that Obi-Wan often pushed himself past his limitations. The unusual part was that Obi-Wan didn't bother to hide it this time. Not even in the Force; his signature was saturated with it, heavy and almost stifling.

  
  


When Anakin closed the door behind himself, Obi-Wan glanced at him, his voice perfectly neutral as he said, "You're back."

  
  


Anakin inhaled deeply, immensely glad that he hadn't run all the way back like a lovestruck idiot - which, admittedly, had been his initial intention - but decided to, for once in his life, slow down and think. 

  
  


Anakin wanted Obi-Wan. But he also knew Obi-Wan. And getting Obi-Wan to act on the feelings Anakin had caught the glimpse of earlier, meant that Anakin would have to beat Obi-Wan at what he was best at: negotiating.

  
  


And that didn't include impassioned declarations of love. Not yet. Maybe not for a while. Anakin didn't want to push Obi-Wan into acting on his desires against his will; he wanted Obi-Wan to choose him. Anakin wanted a relationship, not a passion fueled tryst, followed by guilt and regret on one, and anger and resentment on the other side.

  
  


Anakin supposed there was a certain amount of irony in the fact that this was the closest Anakin has ever gotten to the sort of inner reflection and clarity Obi-Wan has been trying to instill in him since… well, _forever._

  
  


Anakin glanced at the table, undecided. He was stalling, and he was aware of it. Painfully so. Playing things carefully wasn't out of the realm of possibility for Anakin. It was simply he preferred instinct and improvisation.

  
  


Before the nervous excitement that fluttered low in his abdomen could turn into frustration, Anakin finally moved. He walked over to the table and seated himself on the chair next to Obi-Wan's.

  
  


_Now what?_

  
  


The holoprojector was still occupying the same spot on the table as before. An undoubtedly expensive tray containing a glass bottle filled with orange liquid was new, however.

  
  


There was also a glass, half-full of the orange drink, right in front of Obi-Wan. Without a thought, Anakin snatched the glass and took a long gulp. It burned in his throat as it went down, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste on his tongue.

  
  


Anakin put the glass down, grimacing. "This tastes like shaak piss."

  
  


A faint quirk appeared in the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth. "I am told it is made from the fruit that grows only in the southern regions of Koa. And the distillation process is a trade secret." Obi-Wan reached for the glass, swirled the drink in his hand before taking a large swallow. He put down the glass, only a mild furrow appearing on his brow. Anakin was faintly impressed. "I suppose it is an acquired taste."

  
  


Anakin had to force his eyes away from the unconscious sweep of Obi-Wan's tongue over his lower lip. His gaze fell on the holoprojector.

  
  


"So," Anakin said, his voice only mildly hoarse. "How did your talk with the Council go?"

  
  


Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin, only to look away in the next moment. "I suppose it could have been worse," Obi-Wan stated in a carefully neutral voice. "At least I had to give my report to Mace Windu alone."

  
  


Anakin couldn't have helped himself: he snorted. "And how is _that_ better?"

  
  


Obi-Wan shrugged. "It could have been the entire Council." Obi-Wan paused, giving Anakin a pointed look. "Or just Master Yoda."

  
  


Anakin blinked, his mind balking at the prospect of even imagining that scenario. "What did Windu have to say?" Anakin said after a moment.

  
  


" _Master_ Windu, Anakin," Obi-Wan corrected in a wearied voice. Anakin suspected Obi-Wan was doing it now more out of force of habit than any real hope of succeeding. "He wasn't as… surprised by my report as I suspected he would have been." Obi-Wan dragged a hand across his face, a look of faint amusement flickering across his features. "Apparently, our current problem is hardly an isolated incident. It is not even as rare as one might have thought given the Order's reputation."

  
  


Anakin took a moment to process that particular piece of information, clamping down on his rising curiosity. Interesting as knowing the details might have been, Anakin had far more important matters to settle. He cleared his throat. "I suppose we're leaving?"

  
  


Obi-Wan's mouth pressed into a tight line. For all his lectures, Obi-Wan wasn't any better than Anakin in accepting failure. Especially in circumstances beyond his control. 

  
  


"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "But not immediately. We are to wait for our replacement."

  
  


"They are continuing the negotiations?" Anakin said, incredulous. "What about… you know, the ritual?"

  
  


"Whatever the Council deem necessary," Obi-Wan said in a voice void of any inflection. He let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging minutely. "The matter is out of our hands, in any case. We are no more than a token Republic presence until the new representatives arrive."

  
  


Anakin nodded, once, squashing the numerous questions that were swirling inside his mind, deeming them a distraction. 

  
  


The silence that ensued stretched from one moment to four to ten, uncomfortable and stifling, until Anakin could no longer bear its weight.

  
  


"Obi-Wan," Anakin said, amazed at the steadiness of his voice. "Don't you think we need to talk?"

  
  


Obi-Wan flinched; a faint, almost imperceptible movement, and all the more indicative for it. He glanced at Anakin, looking resigned. "Isn't that usually my line?"

  
  


"Then you know how important it is."

  
  


Obi-Wan sighed, his shoulders tensing as if bracing for an upcoming blow. "Very well."

  
  


When it became obvious Obi-Wan meant for Anakin to have the first word, Anakin couldn't tell whether he should be grateful or annoyed. With a sharp inhale, Anakin stood up and dragged his chair away from the table and closer to Obi-Wan, forcing Obi-Wan to shift on his chair so he would be facing Anakin. When Anakin sat down again, their knees were almost touching.

  
  


"I know you want me," Anakin said, finally, his voice wavering only a little, and his gaze fixed unblinkingly on Obi-Wan. "Do you deny it?"

  
  


A faint flicker of surprise appeared in Obi-Wan's eyes. It was quickly replaced by mild amusement. "Would it even matter?" Obi-Wan asked, arching an eyebrow. Anakin felt himself grit his teeth. Obi-Wan was kriffing good at this. Too good. "You seem to have made up your mind already."

  
  


Usually, at this point, Anakin would start to lose control of his temper. And, by extension, the conversation itself. This time, however, he merely released a sharp breath and lifted his chin defiantly. 

  
  


"Based on what _you_ have taught me," Anakin said. "Observe and deduct. That is how it goes, does it not?"

  
  


Obi-Wan shifted in his seat, a small crease forming on his forehead, but he remained silent. 

  
  


Anakin reigned in the small flicker of triumph at Obi-Wan's, however small, show of unease. Overconfidence often led to defeat. At least that was what Obi-Wan had been telling him for years now.

  
  


"Do you want to know what I observed?" Anakin asked, but didn't wait for Obi-Wan's reply. He held up one finger. "First: your shields aren't as strong as you would like them to be." Another finger. "Second: you have spent two hours all but outright arguing with a foreign dignitary over my virtue." And another one. "And third: in the course of those two hours, you have failed to ask the basic questions concerning the very subject you were discussing. A mistake a beginner wouldn't have made." Anakin paused, allowing himself a brief, victorious grin. "Have I forgotten something?"

  
  


Obi-Wan's expression was a strange combination of impressed and pained. He shut his eyes for a single moment. When he opened them again, he looked resigned. But not defeated.

  
  


Anakin didn't like that expression.

  
  


"No, Anakin. That seems quite enough to prove your point," Obi-Wan conceded, a hint of a smile curving on the edge of his mouth. "You have finally and without a doubt proved my faith in your capabilities."

  
  


Anakin's throat went sandpaper dry. In any other circumstances, he would have basked in the warmth of Obi-Wan's praise. Now, his chest felt tight with rising dread.

  
  


Obi-Wan straightened in his seat, resolve solidifying on his face. But there was also an ache - deep and insistent - seeping into the bond they shared. 

  
  


"But you seem to have forgotten other lessons I have taught you, Padawan," Obi-Wan said. Then, catching Anakin's gaze, he held up one finger. "Lesson number one: there is no emotion, there is peace." A second finger. "Lesson number two: there is no passion, there is serenity." And third. "Lesson number three: our lives and loyalty belong to the Order. First, second, and always."

  
  


Anakin felt each of Obi-Wan's arguments as a sharp nail digging into the tender flesh of his heart. It hurt - a lot - despite having expected each and every word.

  
  


"Should I continue?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice holding not a trace of triumph. Instead, it made Anakin think of caverns on Ilum: hollow and frozen over.

  
  


And that just made it worse: Obi-Wan wasn't just denying Anakin - if it were so, Anakin would have found a way to accept it, and move on, it would have hurt more than Anakin was willing to imagine, but Anakin would have managed - he was denying himself, too.

  
  


But Anakin was not done yet. He hadn't even come close to it.

  
  


"Funny," Anakin said when he was more or less certain his voice won't fail him. "I thought you would start with me still being your Padawan. Or our age difference."

  
  


"Do I need to?" Obi-Wan asked in a voice that went barely above a whisper.

  
  


_Don't make me do this._

  
  


Anakin spread his arms, his mouth forming something that was half a sneer and half a smile. "This is a negotiation," Anakin said, voice low and heated. "So, Negotiator, convince me you are right and I am wrong. Because so far, you've offered me nothing but Jedi platitudes. And we both know how much I value those."

  
  


Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed, anger seeping into his gaze. He made as if to stand up, but reconsidered. "Those are the core tenants of the Order you have chosen to join willingly. Have you so little respect for the Jedi? For me as your teacher?"

  
  


Anakin breathed through the shame and guilt and helpless frustration that have formed a heavy lump inside his throat.

  
  


"I think it's a bit late to worry about upholding the tenants we are both breaking each and every moment we draw breath," Anakin said, feeling a vicious stab of satisfaction at Obi-Wan's flinch. "Or is it that you don't count wanting to fuck me as a transgression as long as your cock stays far away from my ass?"

  
  


The sound of glass cracking seemed like thunderclap in the ensuing silence. For one long moment neither Anakin, nor Obi-Wan moved. They stared at each other, frozen, the space between them thick with tension. 

  
  


Obi-Wan moved first. He pushed himself to his feet, the chair screeching loudly as heavy wood dragged against the marble floor, and strode away, stopping himself after taking four steps.

  
  


Anakin glanced reflexively at the bottle, now cracked in half, and spilling the orange drink slowly across the table. The sight of it made Anakin want to smile, despite the despair that kept clawing at the inside of his chest. It was so like Obi-Wan; even his outburst had a measure of control in it. If this were Anakin's doing, the bottle would have been shattered into hundreds of small pieces.

  
  


Like what he'd just done with whatever minuscule chance he'd had of ever swaying Obi-Wan to see Anakin as someone worthy of his love. As someone for whom Obi-Wan would go against his deepest beliefs.

  
  


Slowly, Anakin rose to unsteady feet. He felt himself move without being aware he'd made a conscious decision to do so. He stopped a step away from where Obi-Wan stood, facing away from Anakin.

  
  


Anakin reached out with a trembling hand, and stopped, his fingers hovering an inch over Obi-Wan's shoulder. He couldn't make himself touch Obi-Wan. He wanted to - oh, how much he wanted to - but he couldn't convince his hand to close the remaining distance between them. Instead, he allowed his hand to fall dejectedly by his side.

  
  


Anakin watched the tense line of Obi-Wan's shoulders, rising and falling in sync with his harsh breaths, wanting nothing more than the ability to erase what he'd just said, with no thought past the immediate gratification of lashing out with all his anger and all his hurt.

  
  


"Obi-Wan," Anakin started, swallowed thickly, then tried again. "I- I shouldn't have said it. I-"

  
  


"You were right," Obi-Wan said without turning around, his voice sounding nothing like his usual smooth, polished tones. "You _are_ right."

  
  


_What?_

  
  


"What?" Anakin managed to utter, feeling as if the entire galaxy had shifted, rearranging itself in an entirely new way all around him. Nothing made sense. And nothing mattered save the small spark of hope that had - impossibly, miraculously - come to life beneath his breastbone.

  
  


Obi-Wan turned to face him, looking tired and defeated, and it hurt. Anakin didn't want this. Didn't want Obi-Wan to look hollow and broken over his feelings for Anakin.

  
  


"It doesn't matter that I haven't touched you," Obi-Wan said, softly. He reached out, catching Anakin's braid between his fingers. He stroked it with his thumb, slowly almost reverently before pulling away, his mouth twisting into a faint shadow of a real smile. "Because, some days, that is all I can think about."

  
  


Anakin made a step forward, desperate to close the distance between them, but forced himself to stillness when Obi-Wan matched his step with a backward one of his own.

  
  


"If me being your Padawan is the problem," Anakin said, voice caught between desperate and pleading. "That won't be a problem for long, will it?"

  
  


"I take it that means you have noticed my hints?" Obi-Wan said, a trace of humor seeping into his voice despite the look of bone deep sorrow in his eyes.

  
  


"You haven't been subtle."

  
  


"I have long since learned that subtlety tends to have no effect whatsoever on you." Obi-Wan paused, his expression turning grave. "Do you want it, Anakin? Being a Jedi Knight? Truly want it?"

  
  


Anakin hesitated only for a moment. "Yes," Anakin said, his voice steady despite the thunderous rhythm of his heartbeat. He fixed Obi-Wan with a level look, spreading his arms. "But I'll never be the kind of a Jedi you want me to be. The kind you are." Anakin felt his mouth curve into a small, sad smile. "Not that that's news to you. You've known it for years now. At least since Tatooine. And the Tuskens."

  
  


When Obi-Wan had been the one to stop Anakin from going after the tribe of Tusken Raiders that had captured Shmi. 

  
  


Obi-Wan's jaw twitched as he looked away. The Force around him moved restlessly, affected by the emotions spilling through the cracks in Obi-Wan's shields.

  
  


Anakin inhaled deeply, forcing himself not to move, not to reach after Obi-Wan. Not yet. "Knowing that, you are still willing to recommend me for the Trials," Anakin said. Then, he took a sharp breath, the back of his throat stinging from the bitter taste of the words gathered there. "Or are you simply looking to be rid of me?"

  
  


_Be rid of temptation._

  
  


Obi-Wan snapped his gaze up. "I may be compromised, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, reproach giving his voice a sharp edge. "But not to that extent."

  
  


"Then why are you doing this?" Anakin exclaimed hotly, his fingers clenching involuntarily. "You've seen me at my worst. And you stayed with me. You gave me a second chance. How can what I feel for you be the obstacle you can't cross?"

  
  


"Because I cannot be the reason for your leaving the Jedi Order," Obi-Wan said, sounding miserable. Like every word hurt as it left his mouth. He spread his hands helplessly. "I wanted to be a grounding presence for you, not another incentive to look for a different life. Life with less limitations. Life that would… suit you better."

  
  


Anakin opened his mouth, but couldn't make it to work properly. The implication of what Obi-Wan had just confessed was mind boggling.

  
  


" _You_ would leave the Order?" Anakin finally asked, incredulous. He made a half a step forward before he managed to stop himself. "For _me_?"

  
  


Obi-Wan's answering smile was brittle, and the look in his eyes a blend of sorrow and determination. 

  
  


"You have seen it today," Obi-Wan said, dragging his fingers through his hair. "I didn't care about our assignment, the Republic or possible consequences of refusal." Obi-Wan shook his head, letting out a sharp, mirthless laugh. "And I _assumed_ ." Obi-Wan said the last word almost as a curse. "He mentioned you… and I didn't think. _Couldn't_ think past the notion of someone else laying claim to you."

  
  


A shiver ran down Anakin's spine at the fire in Obi-Wan's voice and his eyes. Fire that had Anakin's name written over it. He swallowed, then shifted on his feet, trying to hide the effect Obi-Wan's words were having on him. 

  
  


Not that Obi-Wan seemed to notice anything; too caught up in his own inner turmoil.

  
  


"I have made a mistake a beginner wouldn't have made and I have made it because I couldn't stand the thought of you being with anyone else," Obi-Wan said, rueful. He looked at Anakin, his right hand making an aborted move toward Anakin. "Despite the fact I have no right to feel that way."

  
  


Anakin shut his eyes briefly, breathing heavily and clenching his hands into tight fists in an effort of trying to hold onto his rapidly fraying control. 

  
  


_Kriff this_ , Anakin thought after a moment, opening his eyes and moving before the thought had fully formed inside his mind.

  
  


Obi-Wan didn't move this time, nor did he try to stop Anakin from gathering his face between his hands.

  
  


"But you do. You have every right. I am yours," Anakin said in a heated voice, the words spilling out of him as unstoppable as the tide. "And I want you to be mine."

  
  


Obi-Wan tilted his head, moving further into Anakin's touch. "Anakin, we cannot do this. We shouldn't do this," Obi-Wan said, folding his fingers around Anakin's wrists, but making no move to push Anakin away. Nor to hide the depth of longing in his eyes.

  
  


"Why not?" Anakin said, bringing their foreheads together, breathing in Obi-Wan's air. "I will stay a Jedi with you, or I will follow you out of the Order, but I won't stop feeling this way. I- I love you, Obi-Wan."

  
  


Obi-Wan trembled faintly, his fingers tightening further around Anakin's wrists. Holding him, not pushing him away. Anakin wondered if Obi-Wan was even aware of what he was doing. "Anakin, I raised you since you were a boy. This-"

  
  


Anakin laughed, joy bubbling inside his chest. He pulled away so he could look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Obi-Wan might not have said it, but Anakin could see it clearly: his own feelings, mirrored in Obi-Wan's eyes.

  
  


"Is that all you've got?" Anakin said, brushing his lips against Obi-Wan's cheek briefly. "We raised each other, Obi-Wan. Ever since the beginning, we were a team. We messed up sometimes, but we managed." Anakin paused, his eyes flicking down to Obi-Wan's lips, then back up. "And that's all I want. All I need. You and I. Together."

  
  


Obi-Wan swallowed, his mouth curving into a soft smile. Something shifted in his eyes, turning from resignation to resolution. Anakin felt his breath stutter in his throat, his chest almost cracking from the strain of holding all the love, all the joy, and all the hope inside.

  
  


"Together," Obi-Wan repeated, gentle but with unwavering resolve. He let go of Anakin's wrists, only to twine his hands around the back of Anakin's neck and pull his head gently but inexorably down.

  
  


"Together," Anakin echoed in the final moment before closing his mouth over Obi-Wan's.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
